"70% chance of rain." You have read that a thousand times, and there is a good chance you have never once read it correctly. It does not mean 70% of the area. It does not mean 70% of the day.

A hurricane pours out about two hundred times more power than every power station on Earth put together. Nobody plugs it in. So where is it coming from?

Climb a mountain and you get nearer the Sun and colder at the same time. Both of those are true. Only one of them is doing anything.

"Lightning never strikes the same place twice." One building in New York takes about twenty-five hits a year, and a single flash usually strikes three times before you have finished blinking.

Every snow crystal that has ever fallen had six sides. Not five, not seven, not once. Something is enforcing that — and it is far too small to see.

On a baking hot beach the breeze comes IN off the cold water, towards the heat. If you think warm places blow air outward, the sea has been quietly disagreeing with you your whole life.

It rains. There is a puddle by the door. The next day it has gone, and nobody drank it. So where does a puddle actually go?